


Take Me Out With The Crowd

by spyglass



Category: Set It Up (2018)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:47:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21843151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spyglass/pseuds/spyglass
Summary: Charlie still wears suits to baseball games, and yet, Harper likes him anyway.
Relationships: Charlie/Harper (Set It Up)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 86
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	Take Me Out With The Crowd

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lovebeyondmeasure](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovebeyondmeasure/gifts).



They’ve been dating for over seven months when Harper finally gets him to another baseball game.

It’s not intentional, of course. They started dating at the end of August, but by the time Harper settled into her new schedule -- which was not so much a schedule as it was long periods of procrastination followed by furious bouts of writing -- and Charlie was on his second temp job, it was already well into October and there were no baseball games to be had.

Harper has gone to several games in that time. Research, or so she says, for an article she was writing on the wives of several of the Yankees’ longest-tenured players. But as soon as Opening Day rolls around again, she starts dropping hints that they should go. Finally, on a Friday night in mid-April, he shows up outside their office building while she’s upstairs meeting with Kirsten about a new story she’s working on.

(It hasn’t been either of their office in months, but he still thinks of it as theirs.)

“It’s Friday,” he says as soon as she emerges through the glass doors, her eyes squinting in the late afternoon sun. “I’m free, you’re free. Let’s go to the game.”

Harper laughs. A short, affectionate chuckle that he’s particularly fond of, except in this particular moment Charlie suspects her laugh is at his expense.

“I should be mad at you for just assuming I’m free,” she says. “I could have plans with Becca!”

“Becca is at her tasting at the wedding venue,” he counters matter-of-factly. “She’s already posted four different pictures to her Instagram story. And I know you don’t have plans tonight because you never make plans when you’re working on a story.”

“True.” Harper concedes, glancing at her phone. “So you want to go to the game?”

“Yes.”

“And did you look at the schedule?”

“The Yankees are playing the White Sox tonight,” he says confidently. Even though sports are more Harper’s thing, he knows enough to enjoy them, and -- more importantly -- to enjoy watching her enjoy them.

“That’s true,” she says, mirth evident on her face. “I don’t think we’re going to make it before first pitch though. Look at the schedule again, Charlie. They _are_ playing the White Sox, but they’re playing _in_ Chicago and I don’t think we can get there on the subway.”

“Oh.” Charlie groans because this is a rookie mistake and he knows he’s absolutely never going to hear the end of this.

“Yes, _oh._ ”

xxx

Two weeks later, he finds himself in a packed 4 train heading uptown at rush hour as just about the only person in the subway car not decked out in team gear.

“You look like a tool,” Harper says as the subway train emerges from underground and the first glimpse of Yankee Stadium comes into view. “Like one of those finance guys who sits in the expensive seats.”

“I was one of those finance guys!” He protests.

“ _Recovering_ finance guy,” she reminds him, laughing. “You’ll stick out in the upper deck with the real fans.”

“Well, good thing I have you to cover for me.”

The train pulls into its stop, and they shuffle out onto the platform with the crowds of fans moving slowly down the first set of subway stairs and towards the exit. Harper tugs on his jacket sleeve and directs him towards a side gate and away from the main crowd, and they are quickly able to descend the remaining stairs and exit onto the street.

“I’m just saying,” Harper declares, her hand squeezing his for a brief moment before dropping it to navigate them towards the entrance to Yankee Stadium. “If you spill your beer on someone, I’m going to pretend not to know you.”

“If I spill my $14 beer, I’m going to pretend not to know myself!”

xxx

By the top of the sixth inning, the game is not going well. The Yankees are down 6-1 while playing a last-place team, and Harper is starting to get restless.

Truth be told, so is Charlie.

“Oh, come on!” Harper throws up her arms and yells at the umpire in protest as yet another borderline pitch is called a ball. “That was a strike!”

“You’re hot when you’re mad, you know,” Charlie observes. “Especially over sports.”

Harper turns to him and sticks out her tongue, temporarily distracted as the Yankees pitcher walks his second straight batter to start off the inning. “You would say that,” she grumbles. “But then I guess you’d know, since I’m mad at you often enough.”

They both groan as the pitcher gives up a three-run home run, and the team now trails by eight runs.

“I’m gonna go get two more $14 beers,” Charlie says.

xxx

Somehow, by the bottom of the ninth inning, the Yankees have fought back and are only down two runs.

When the first batter in the inning makes an out, Charlie starts to look around to gather up their things. “We should go now before everyone else leaves,” he says.

Harper, watching intently as the next batter works a three ball, two strike count, takes her eye off the field for a moment to glare at him. “You’ve been itching to go since the seventh inning,” she says. “It figures you wouldn’t understand Team Never Leave.”

Charlie’s brow furrows in confusion. “Team what now?”

“Team Never Leave,” Harper says, pumping her fist and exclaiming emphatically as the batter takes ball four and walking to first base. Harper’s attention never leaves the field as she launches into one of her emotional soapboxes on the beauty of sports that Charlie never fully understands but enjoys anyway.

“The beauty of baseball is that it doesn’t have a clock!” Harper exclaims. “The game is never over until the twenty seventh out. See, the tying run is coming to the plate now! The Yankees could still win this. You never know what could happen!”

“The odds are still pretty high that they’re going to lose,” Charlie argues, waving his hands at the field as the next batter flies out to shallow right field for the first out.

Harper ignores his teasing and stands up with the rest of the crowd, clapping and cheering as the next batter comes to the plate as the potential tying run. Harper cheers louder than anyone, and captivated by her enthusiasm, Charlie jumps to his feet to join in.

The batter swings at the first two pitches before swinging at a pitch that bounces in front of home plate for strike three, and just like that, there are two outs in the inning.

“That’s a terrible swing!” Charlie yells, letting himself get caught up in the moment as Harper curses alongside him.

Down to the final out, the next batter singles to put the tying run on base. The Yankees’ last hope is their catcher, a player Harper loves but who has struggled to start the season. He could win the game with a home run, or seal the Yankees’ loss by making an out. The crowd is buzzing with nervous energy, and Harper rocks back and forth in place, whispering “Come on,” under her breath.

The at bat seems to last forever, with each moment drawn out in nervous anticipation, the crowd reacting to every pitch. The batter works the count to three balls and two strikes before connecting on the very next pitch and launching a three-run home run to deep right field to win the game.

The entire stadium erupts with the crack of the bat. The upper deck feels as though it’s shaking as fans jump up and down in celebration, and in between high fiving strangers seated nearby and screaming until she’s practically hoarse, Harper flings her arms around Charlie’s neck and kisses him hard.

“That’s what I’m talking ‘bout,” she whispers emphatically, her eyes shining. “This is why you stay until the end of the game, dumbass.”

“You’ve made your point.”

“Most times they probably lose,” she admits with a shrug before motioning to the field below where the players are still celebrating. “But sometimes they win, and you wouldn’t want to miss this.”

“No,” he agrees, kissing her again. “I definitely wouldn’t.”

Harper quirks an eyebrow and bumps her shoulder against his. “And _now_ we can leave.”

Charlie considers this for a moment.

“Actually, let’s hang back for a few minutes,” he says. “I think I need to buy a Yankees hat.”


End file.
